I Thought
by Kentra02
Summary: Wufei doesn't understand what's caused him to lose everything that is important to him.


Title: I Thought  
  
Author: Kentra Shinataku  
  
Anime: Gundam Wing  
  
Pairings: 5+2, 1x2  
  
Archive: http://www.deathandpassion.cjb.net  
  
Category: Mild Angst  
  
Rating: PG   
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Warning: Ficlet, minor angst-ness, Wufei POV, post-war  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing…  
  
Feedback: If you want to… Though this fic isn't exactly one of my greatest.  
  
A souvenir I brought back from vacation for Chihaya. Since I couldn't get her something real, I wrote this for her.  
  
**********  
  
I Thought  
  
The closet door slammed closed and he tossed onto the bed what I recognized as his few favorite garments. Not that he was picky, he could have lived with any old clothes, but these were the ones I saw him in most, the ones he preferred. Black, as usual. I should have taken that as the first sign. The little demonic angel statuette fell with the force he used closing the dresser drawer and he didn't bother setting it upright. I bought that for him.  
  
"You're really going." I wasn't aware how flat and emotionless my voice sounded, the life sucked out of it as if the truth didn't matter, as if I didn't care, as if my not caring would change the truth, change your mind.  
  
"Of course I'm going, _Chang_." Ouch. It had been years since he called me by my last name in a serious tone. He dragged a small suitcase from the closet, and I just watched, I just stood back and watched him walk out of my life. I didn't do anything to stop him. I don't remember ever feeling so helpless. "I don't think it really matters to you whether I stay or go, anyways."  
  
"That's not true, Duo." I didn't understand why what I felt inside didn't dictate my tone, why I couldn't sound as upset and angry in my voice as the thoughts and questions inside my head were raging.  
  
"Oh yeah?" He snarled at me, he actually _snarled_ at me, "Then why have you been ignoring the hell out of me? Why is every fucking room I'm in empty?"  
  
I stood, quietly watching him, not knowing what sort of formulated answer I could relay to fix this, to fix whatever I had done to cause this. Whatever I had done had to have been the worst mistake I ever made. I didn't realize I had been ignoring him, I didn't know I had done anything wrong. Not until that day.  
  
After he left, slamming the door in my face, I heard him sobbing outside in the rain, leaning against the door, "If you love me so much, why the fuck don't you ask me to stay?!"  
  
Even after that, I didn't go after him.  
  
Days slowly faded into months, all the while I brooded, knowing I was the only one to blame for my misery. I still never understood why he thought I was ignoring him, I honestly didn't know I was, but even after I found out he was staying with Heero, I didn't call him, didn't invite him to return home where he belonged. I didn't think I should have to. He should have known how much I loved him. I thought he did. I would have done anything for him, I just wanted to be able to talk to him again, to be able to see him again.   
  
I got that chance one day when he showed up at the door of what was no longer an apartment we called ours, but an apartment that he called mine. I looked at him, and it took every shred of control I possessed not to pull him into my arms and not let him leave me ever again. In his eyes, I saw he was waiting for something, yet I still kept quiet. How many more mistakes could I have made?  
  
With pained, forced movements and polite expressions, he told me that he and Heero had fallen in love. I wondered why he had come to my door to tell me this. Why did he have to haunt me with his eyes when he could have just haunted me with his voice over the telephone? My question was answered when he opened his palm to me, offering the silver banded ring I had given to him just after the war. It rained again that day.  
  
More time passed me by, leaving me behind, it seemed, and time found me not eating or sleeping, barely living outside my job. Even that had become difficult, and I had gotten into trouble at work. I stopped caring about anything but him. And to think, I thought he knew that my love was his, that my life was lived, centered on him. I thought he knew how much I loved him.  
  
There were three more work issues, and my boss seemed to notice that my health was deteriorating and requested that I see a doctor. He put me on a medical leave and told me to get better. I almost wished he had fired me. There was nothing wrong with me.  
  
But I went to the doctor anyways.  
  
I still don't believe how nervous I was when I stepped into the office and out of the rain outside, leaving my name with the secretary, avoiding the stares from some of the other patients. A little boy kept stealing bashful glances at me from his mothers lap as she whispered occasionally into his ear, not bothering to hide the fact she was staring at me. I didn't want to know what she was saying. I didn't really care.  
  
When the doctor finally got around to seeing me, a good thirty-five minutes later, he weighed me, did a procedure check up, and asked me pointless questions. Then he prescribed me Zoloft.   
  
I was confused, as Zoloft was an anti-depressant. He explained that depression had kept me from really showing how I care, from expressing my feelings, the love that I thought should be plain. Over time and pain, it had just grown so much deeper, expressing my uncaring feelings toward everything and everyone, and I drowned in my own self-neglect.  
  
The new medication surprisingly helped me. It was a strange feeling. I remembered, then, that Duo used to always laugh at the Zoloft commercials. He had such an affection for the little round creature that bounced around and chased the birds and butterflies. Getting better, I almost felt that way.  
  
I went back to work again, and actually accomplished my tasks each day. It was as if I had stepped from a dull world of black and white into a land full of color. I realized that maybe the rain I always saw wasn't really there, the rain was a barrier my mind held, a curtain to shield me from the sun. I started taking care of myself again.  
  
Yet there was still something missing my life, something I needed, the only thing that could ever make me happy. I had twelve years of happiness with him and one year of desolation without. I needed him. One day I gathered my courage and actually dialed the phone. I heard his voice for the first time in so long, and it somehow sounded different to my ears, more musical, more clear. When I spoke to him, I showed him every emotion I had bottled inside myself for the longest time through my voice.  
  
"Duo… I miss you."  
  
********** 


End file.
